His Soft Spot
by darcyfarrow
Summary: Grace discovers Gold has a soft spot. Gold doesn't care who finds out. ***Rumbelle lives, regardless of Season 7!***


Grace is the first to discover it, but she keeps the realization to herself for three whole weeks, until her best friend Angie Schulman comes to her, frantic that her widowed mother can't make the rent his month and the entire Schulman clan, down to six-month old Benny, will be evicted. Then Grace tells, but only after securing Angie's solemn vow to keep the information secret. A revelation revealed too widely loses its power.

It's Grace, tender hearted, never forgetting how it felt to be a victim of dark magic, who breaks the vow a second time and brings another youngster in on the secret. But this time it's Henry, and shouldn't a kid be allowed in on a secret concerning his own grandfather? Henry's in sudden need of money and Regina won't advance him his allowance (maybe because previous advances have him backed up to 2033) and he's willing to work for it, if only Grandpa Gold will give him a temporary job—and the cause is so romantic (Violet's birthday) that Grace can't not let Henry in. Besides, Henry is a child of honor—consider his maternal grandparents: he won't spill the beans.

Until he does. The Zimmer kids have outgrown their school uniforms and their dad's hours at the garage have been cut, so. . . . And we're off to the races. Within a week even the adults know, and by end of the month, Rumplestiltskin's carefully crafted and sharply honed reputation for nastiness is shot to pieces.

Grace first made the discovery quite accidentally. She'd registered for a teen book club and had made arrangements to pick up a copy of the first reading at the pawnshop, since the library was closed that day. She'd paced in the park a good ten minutes before she worked up the nerve to enter the pawnshop, even though her father was one of the very few who could be considered on good terms with Gold. Almost a friend, even. And after all, Mrs. Gold had sent her: surely Mr. Gold couldn't object. The intrusion would take only a moment of his time. So Grace locked her shaking knees in place and pushed open the heavy door and, as the merry little shop bell jingled incongruently overhead, she entered the dim and - shop.

He was standing at the cash register, counting out the till. Grace gulped. A bad time to interrupt. She froze on the threshold.

He didn't raise his head from the stack of cash in his hand. "Well, come in, if you're going to, dearie, or go out. Don't let the cold in. Electric bills are high enough as it is."

She took a step forward, just enough to close the door behind her. Respectfully, she came no farther, waiting for him to finish his count. When he'd put the money away and closed his till, she dared to approach the counter.

"What can I do for you, Miss Hatter?" His tone was neither warm nor cold. Indecipherable, like the man himself.

"Mrs. Gold left a book here for me. _Animal Farm_?"

Was that—? Grace's eyes widened. Yes, it was, it unmistakably was! Thin and shy, but it was! A smile had flickered across Gold's lips.

"Ah, yes. She mentioned you'd stop by for it." He looked down, sliding a drawer open. Was that a faint pink rising in his hollow cheeks?

Grace had to test it. She took another step forward. "I'm looking forward to reading it. Mrs. Gold says it's a political allegory."

The book now in his grip, Gold looked across the counter at her. And smiled, a full-on smile! "So it is. And more." He presented the book to her.

One more small test: "Mrs. Gold persuaded Hansel Zimmer to put down his Game Boy and agree to join the club. Hansel's never read a novel in his life. She has a way of talking to kids, though. You just want to do things for her, you know?"

Yes! His smile crept all the way across his face and his blush soon followed.

"Mrs. Gold is the nicest lady in town, my dad says."

"Your father is a good judge of character." He made a little shooing motion to urge her along. "Enjoy your book, Miss Hatter."

She glanced back over her shoulder as she went out. He was still smiling.

After that, she'd got him under her thumb. Not that she abused the control too often or too noticeably, but whenever she needed a little favor from Mr. Gold, all she had to do was utter the magic words "Mrs. Gold." Those words were his "open sesame."

Weeks go by, once the secret has been passed in whispers from eager lips to needy ear. Favor after favor Mr. Gold has granted to those who subtly charm the crocodile with his wife's name. What they ask of him, they keep small enough not to jolt him into awareness, but he finds himself permitting extensions on rent payments, extending leases he'd planned to let expire, even buying candles from the nuns. But when Dopey dares to ask to be given the dwarf beer steins free of charge, the jig is up. Gold tosses the dwarf out of his shop—but still smiles, until Jefferson breaks down and confesses.

"We've been taking advantage of your soft side, in case you haven't noticed. I had to tell you, since we're, well, friends. Sort of." The hatter has brought a fresh baked batch of ginger snaps, Grace's contribution to the apology, and he now pushes the plate across the counter. "Here. I know they're your favorite. Grace and I are sorry."

"I don't know what you're referring to, Hatter. I don't have a soft side."

"Yes you do. Her name is Belle."

The blush and the smile trap him. Jefferson picks up a silver salver, turns it about so Gold's face is reflected in it and waits for the reaction. "Oh," is all Gold ekes out.

"Yeah. Well, the whole town has been taking advantage, so. . . ."

Gold raises his chin. "You know what? I don't care."

"You don't—"

"No. I don't. In fact, I'm proud of it. Proud of the fact that I have someone to love who loves me back. Especially someone as smart and kind as Belle."

"Yeah." Jefferson's eyes lower as he remembers his own beloved, how lucky he once felt to have been chosen by such a special lady.

"I'm proud to be Belle French's husband and I don't care who knows it." Gold bites into a cookie with a defiant snap of his wrist.

"Yeah."

"Let those who would snicker at my 'softness' ask themselves who's luckier, them or me." Gold pushes the plate back. "Have a cookie, Hatter. They're good."

"Yeah." And as he bites into a ginger snap, Jefferson realizes he's lucky too, because he has Grace. "Pity those poor bastards who don't have a soft spot."

"Indeed, Mr. Hatter. Indeed."


End file.
